Fighting for the Edge (10 page)

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to skate here?” she asked. “The ice looked pretty crowded.”

“Of course. Everyone’s been super nice about making space for us.”

“I wish I could stay here longer than ten days. I miss nice people.”

She started for the stairs, and I followed her down to the rink. Moving beside her, I angled my head to look at her. “Your mom said some kids have been giving you a hard time?”

Liza stared at the concrete floor and picked at the chipped pink polish on her thumbnail. “They said I only won a medal because the judges know my dad is a big shot coach and my stepmom is the world champion.”

My heart fell again. “That is absolutely not true. You earned that medal by skating your best. It didn’t matter who your parents are.”

“Some of the girls won’t talk to me anymore. They’re like, ‘You probably think you’re too good to hang out with us now.’ But I never said that! The only person I showed my medal to was Hope because she slept over one night.”

I put my arm around her, and we walked to the first set of bleachers. We sat hip-to-hip, and I brushed her long hair behind her shoulder. With two parents who were once junior world pair champions, Liza was going to have enough heavy expectations placed on her as she advanced in the sport. I hated seeing her already burdened by Sergei and Elena’s success… and mine, too.

“Sweetie, I want you to be proud of what you accomplished. You’ve worked so hard, and you deserve all the recognition you’ve received. Don’t let those kids affect how you see yourself. Because not only are you an awesome skater, you’re a pretty awesome person.”

A little smile tugged on her mouth. “I still wish I could stay here longer and then go to St. Louis with you for nationals.”

“I wish you could, too, but you’ll be missing school for the Olympics, so we can’t let you skip any more days.” I bumped her knee with mine. “I bet by the time you go back to New York after the holidays, the kids at the rink will be cool again. They’ll have found something new to talk about.”

She scrunched her face, not looking convinced. “I hope you’re right.”

I rubbed her shoulder and rose from the bench. “I have to run home and get lunch before I pass out. Your dad will be done soon, so why don’t you stretch and get ready for your lesson with him?”

I gathered my jacket and skate bag and made the short drive to my parents’ house. After my most grueling practice in over a week, my stomach was begging for sustenance. I’d made turkey burgers earlier in the week and had frozen them, so I popped one into the stainless steel microwave and started gathering the lettuce, pickles and mustard. Mom breezed into the kitchen and stood across the island from me.

“How was your first day back at the old club?”

“Good. I saw a few familiar faces.”

She stayed quiet as I painted my wheat bun with the mustard. When I turned to take the burger out of the microwave, she said, “Can I ask you something?”

Oh, no.
When coming from my mother, that question only meant bad things.

I plopped the burger onto my bun. “Sure.”

“Are you still on the pill?”

My head shot up. “Excuse me?”

“I saw a box of condoms in your nightstand, so I was wondering if you had an issue with the pill.”

“What were you doing in my nightstand?”

“I was checking to make sure I’d put a flashlight in there. You know I like to keep them around the house in case we lose power.”

“You could’ve asked me to check before you went through our stuff.”

“You just moved in. I didn’t think there was any big private stuff in there.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and took deep breaths. “From now on, can you please ask if you need something in our room?”

Mom gave a quick nod and tapped her fingers on the island. “So, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh my goodness! Yes, I’m still on the pill. We like to be extra careful, okay?”

“Because of what happened with Elena?”

“That’s a big reason, yes. I mean, Sergei adores Liza and can’t imagine not having her in his life, but Elena’s pregnancy cost them their chance at the Olympics. It’s obviously made him much more cautious.”

“Well… I’m glad to hear he’s taking that extra step to protect you.”

I cringed inwardly at the total uncomfortableness of the conversation. I picked up my burger and held it just shy of my mouth. “Can we please change the subject?”

Chapter Eight

Aubrey fluffed her long hair over her shoulders and stepped up to the dresser mirror. She’d chosen a sleeveless black cocktail dress for the Christmas Eve dinner, and she was pleased with the look. The hemline fell right at her knees, and the ruching on the neckline scooped just low enough to be both sexy and classy. She leaned closer to the mirror and widened her emerald green eyes, making sure there were no flaws in her makeup.

Chris’s footsteps pounded up the stairs, and he bellowed, “Ho, ho–”

He stopped in the doorway of Aubrey’s bedroom, his mouth suspended open and his eyes darting over her. Up, down, and back again they traveled until they met her face, which was growing warmer by the second.

“You look really… that’s a nice dress,” Chris stumbled over his words while sneaking another peek downward.

“Thanks.” She smiled.

The strange awkwardness in the air made it feel like they were going on a first date or something. And what a hot date Chris would make. He was wearing black slacks, a pink button-down shirt, and a white tie decorated with tiny candy canes. She’d always had a weakness for dark-haired guys in pink shirts.
Curse him!

The silence was way too unnerving, so Aubrey blurted out, “Cute tie.”

That seemed to break Chris out of his daze. He chuckled and smoothed his fingers over the candy canes. “Ah, so you like my Christmas-themed tie. Interesting development. And here I thought you were wearing black to express your disdain for the holiday.”

“That was actually not a factor in my choice of attire. I’m wearing festive shoes in case you didn’t notice.” She extended one leg outward to show off her leopard print heels.

He took a quick look and a long swallow. “I did… notice.”

She set her heel back on the carpet and swiftly picked up her red coat from the bed. “Should we get going?”

Since Aunt Debbie and Uncle Joe lived just a few blocks from the apartment, they set off on foot toward Commonwealth Avenue. Chris held the bottle of Prosecco they were bringing as a gift, while Aubrey kept her hands buried in her coat pockets. The frosty air burned her cheeks, and she picked up her pace.

They stepped off the curb to cross Marlborough Street, and her shoe skidded on the icy pavement. Her heart rate jumped as she wobbled and spread her arms, barely keeping her balance.

Chris held out his elbow. “Want something to hold onto?”

She was about to decline in order to assert her self-sufficiency, but with more slushy concrete ahead, she realized that wouldn’t be the brightest decision.

She clutched Chris’s arm, and as they continued walking he said, “You know, I had a selfish motive for getting you to come with me to this dinner.”

Curiosity wrinkled her forehead. “Besides your quest to make me love Christmas?”

“Yes, although that is very important to me.” He pointed one gloved finger at her. “The thing is, I didn’t wanna go to the party by myself.”

“Mr. Social Butterfly? I’ve never seen you have trouble talking to anyone at a party.”

“Talking wouldn’t be the problem. I just felt like everyone would be looking at me and thinking, ‘There’s poor Chris, all alone on Christmas.’ I didn’t wanna be that pitiful guy.”

She viewed his profile in the soft light from the street lamps. His insecurity about certain things continued to surprise her, but it was refreshing that he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

“You wouldn’t have been pitiful,” she said. “Though Em’s mom probably would’ve given you her favorite worried look and insisted you spend all of tomorrow at their house.”

“Having her feed me all day doesn’t sound half bad, but I’m much more stoked about our plans.” He smiled.

They turned onto Commonwealth, and white lights twinkling in the trees guided their way down the avenue. As they passed one stately brownstone after another, Aubrey noticed each one had an ornate wreath hung on its front door.

The large first-floor windows of Aunt Debbie’s house glowed with an orange hue, sending out a warm invitation to come inside. Aubrey took the steps up to the red door while maintaining her grip on Chris’s elbow, and when they reached the top Chris pressed the bell.

Uncle Joe opened the door. “Merry Christmas!”

Aubrey stepped inside and hugged him, unable to fully wrap her arms around the burly man. “Thanks so much for including us.”

“You’re both family,” he said.

Aunt Debbie swooped into the foyer for more hugs. “Your timing is perfect. We just got back from mass.”

Chris handed her the Prosecco and met Em at the wide archway between the foyer and the family room. “The heathens are here!”

Em laughed. “I lit a candle at church for your souls.”

“We need more than one candle.” Aubrey slid off her coat. “We need a bonfire.”

The family room was packed with people, all of whom Aubrey had met before. She slowly made her way through the room, chatting with Em’s aunts, uncles, and cousins. With the fireplace crackling, the statuesque tree smelling of pine, and carols playing low on the stereo, she felt like she was in one of those scenes on a Christmas card. And it was actually kind of nice.

Uncle Joe called everyone into the dining room, and they all found places at the long cherry wood table. Em had said Aunt Debbie put in two extra leafs to fit everyone. Aubrey sat between Em and Bri, Em’s twenty-year-old cousin, and Chris sat across from her, but the two of them didn’t talk much during dinner. Em’s Aunt Gayle was on Chris’s left, and she treated him to a constant stream of chatter.

Aubrey listened to the myriad of conversations happening around the table, and they were all lively and upbeat. It was so different from the mood at her family’s holiday table. Usually her dad’s attention stayed on the TV while her mom spilled neighborhood gossip and her brother and sister-in-law yammered on about their law careers. The meals seemed to last hours.

She savored every bite of the vegetable lasagna and wished she could sample the other mouth-watering pasta dishes, but she had to stay in peak shape for nationals. One day soon she’d be able to eat without constantly counting calories.

After everyone helped clear the table, they began trickling back into the family room. Aubrey and Chris paused in the doorway from the dining room, and Aunt Debbie grinned and pointed above their heads.

“Gotcha,” she said.

They both looked up. A small bundle of mistletoe hung from the frame.

“You have to kiss,” Liza said with a giggle.

Chris wouldn’t really kiss her, would he?
He’ll probably give me
a tiny peck. No biggie.

Then why was her heart racing?

“I’m ready.” Chris closed his eyes and puckered his lips like a fish.

Of course he would make a joke out of it.

“You’re such a doofus,” she said and started to walk away, but he grabbed her waist.

“Hey, you have to obey tradition. I’ll be serious, I promise.”

The dimples disappeared, and Chris angled toward her. She drew in a breath, but then he leaned slightly left, placing a sweet kiss on her cheek. His lips were soft and warm. Not only was Scrooge melting, but some other parts of her were as well.

Chris smiled at her, and she quickly shuffled into the family room. “A serious moment from Christopher Grayden,” she said, hoping the exaggerated shock on her face would cover up any possible blushing. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

Em perched on the arm of a nearby easy chair. “It’s a rare occurrence, but it does happen.”

“I’m going to be serious the rest of the night,” Chris said.

Em laughed. “You won’t last five minutes.”

“It’s time for gifts!” Bri said, crouching next to the pile of presents spilling out from under the tree.

Aubrey sat on the piano bench so she wouldn’t be in the way of the mass gift exchange. She, Em, Chris, and Sergei had done their own rowdy exchange with their group of friends at the rink that morning. Chris dropped down beside her on the bench and stared into the distance.

“What is the purpose of life?” he said in a monotone voice. “What does it all mean?”

Aubrey groaned. “I’d like the jokes back, please.”

“Okay, but just remember you asked for it.”

Aunt Debbie walked over with two small gift bags and presented them. “These are for you two.”

“You got us presents?” Aubrey looked at her wide-eyed.

“Everyone has to have something to open. House rule.”

“Thank you,” Chris said. “This is really, really nice.”

Aunt Debbie retreated to the big sectional sofa, and Aubrey reached inside her bag and under the red tissue paper. Her fingers closed in on metal, and she pulled out a shiny silver necklace.

“It’s beautiful. It will go with everything.” She looked over at Aunt Debbie. “Thank you so much.”

Chris ripped the tissue from his bag and smiled at the Baltimore Orioles cap he produced. “Thanks, Mrs. Debbie.”

“Em said you could use a new one.”

Em looked up from tearing the wrapping paper on a large box. “I told her you’ve been wearing the same ratty cap since I met you.”

“And it’s been through some good times,” Chris said.

Aubrey placed her necklace back in the bag and sat quietly observing the “oohs” and “aahs” from the group as they opened their presents. There were also a number of laughs over the gag gifts in the pile. It was how Christmas should be among family – cozy and festive. But she could never be around her dad during the holidays and feel festive. He’d ruined it all.

Chris rose from the bench and straightened his tie. “About ready to head home?”

Even though they’d lived in the apartment less than a week, it strangely didn’t feel weird thinking of it as home.